An Excerpt From...

The Truth Sleuth by
Jacqueline Seewald

Mike Gardner was enjoying his Sunday afternoon. He stretched, yawned, and then checked his watch, wondering what was keeping his guests, who, he calculated, should have already arrived.

"You think Kim will be here soon?" his daughter Evie asked, voicing his own thoughts.

"Anytime now. Maybe I should start preparing the barbecue."

"Kim will want to help us with dinner," Evie said. Gardner thought how mature his fourteen-year-old daughter was becoming, and his chest swelled up with pride.

Just then Gardner heard the sound of motorcycles approaching. "Must be them."

Jean, Gardner's younger daughter, called to them from the front of the house. "Daddy, you have to come and see! They look so cool on their Harleys."

Sure enough, there was Kim, not looking like the Kim he knew, dressed in jeans, T-shirt, and black leather jacket plus helmet. Riding just ahead of her were Bert and April. Three beautiful women, each in her own way. Jean was right: they were cool. The lyrics of "Born to Be Wild" played in his head and he smiled.

The three women divested themselves of helmets and jackets immediately after parking the bikes. It was a warm afternoon in late August; nothing more than T-shirts were required.

"Thanks for letting me try out your Harley," Kim said to April.

"Think you'll buy a hog?"

Gardner noticed a shadow cross Kim's eyes. "Now might not be the best time."

"So, ladies, have a good time today?"

The three exchanged meaningful looks.

"Up to a point," Bert said. Gardner noted her wary look.

"And what point was that?" Gardner asked.

"Oh, about the point Kim found the dead guy," April informed him.

Gardner did a quick turn and saw Kim flush. "You sort of have a talent for doing that."

"It only happened once before," she said defensively.

"It's not a good habit," he said.

"We agree on that," she said.

He turned back to Bert. "Who's investigating?"

"Not us," she assured him. "We're not on duty today, and I intend to keep it that way."

"You can expect to be questioned," Gardner observed.

"We really don't know very much," Kim said.

Gardner gave her a dubious look. Kim always knew more than she let on.

"It's just so sad. The boy was so young." He saw Kim shudder.

"Mortality is a fact of human existence." He hoped that didn't sound too cold.

April shook her head. "Wish I could think that way."

"Mike's a philosopher and a psychologist," Bert said.

"Just a veteran cop. It hardens your psyche."

"Well, I hope you're turning into a great cook. I'm starving," Bert said.

April frowned. "Can't say I feel very hungry after seeing that dead kid."

Jean's and Evie's eyes opened wide with keen interest. "What did he look like?" Evie asked, glancing from April to Kim.

"Yeah, was he covered in blood, all gory and disgusting?" Jean added in an excited voice.

Gardner took each girl by the arm. "You're preparing the salads, remember?"

Jean groaned. "Daddy, you never let us hear anything cool."

"You and your sister might be a couple of ghouls, but we're not discussing this now."

"Evie reads vampire stories. I sneaked some peaks at her books. So I know stuff too."

Evie gave her sister a murderous look. "You're such a brat!"

The conversation ended at Gardner's insistence. Gardner knew he couldn't always protect his girls from the ugly side of life, but he intended to do his damned best as long as he was able.

He studied Kim, aware something was troubling her, something more than finding the dead boy this afternoon. He was psychically connected to her and always realized when she was upset, just as she understood his thoughts and feelings.

He finally got his chance to talk to her alone after Bert and April left that evening and the girls were watching television. Kim was helping him stack dishes into the dishwasher. Her expression was vague and distracted. It didn't take a psychologist or a psychic to know that she was trying to cope with a problem she wasn't eager to talk about.

"You might as well tell me," he said, handing her a rinsed dish.

"I guess I'm pretty transparent."

He smiled. "Like a windowpane, but only to me. Let me guess. You think you've lost your chance to hook me because you didn't accept my proposal right away. Well, if you want me to propose again, I'm more than willing. Fortunately for you, I believe in second chances. We can start looking at engagement rings anytime you say."

"Soon," she said, smiling for the first time that evening.

"How about tomorrow evening?"

She touched his cheek. "Not quite that soon."

"So what's really troubling you if it's not our relationship?"

Kim let out a deep sigh. "Part of it is about that boy we found dead today. Mike, I felt him die! I've been trying to block this sensitivity I have. I thought I'd been more successful lately, not so aware of ghosts, of sensing the dead who aren't at peace. But it hit me really hard today. It was awful!" Kim shivered.

Gardner held her tight in his arms, comforting her as best he could. He had his own sensitivity, which caused him often to be aware of what people were thinking and feeling, but his psychic ability was limited to the living. In comparison to Kim, his awareness was easy to cope with, and he was glad of it. His ability only made him a better cop, someone who could see into rather than merely look at people. It was Kim who was the real truth sleuth. She sometimes had paranormal visions. But he knew that she ruthlessly suppressed her ability as much as possible. Her awareness seemed to bring her too much misery and emotional suffering, as it was doing tonight.

"You'll handle it, honey. You're strong."

"I guess I'll have to. What's the alternative?"

He saw the shadows in her eyes. She had such warm, expressive eyes. Such a beautiful woman. What made her especially attractive to him was how unspoiled she was, unaware of her loveliness, artless and natural. Kim dressed plainly and rarely used much in the way of cosmetics. But it made no difference. Her inner radiance shined through.

"Is there something else?" He'd never seen her looking so down.

"I wasn't going to tell you tonight, but you are so much a part of my life. You have a right to know. The university held off on renewing my contract in the spring. They said there might be cuts. Well, the new semester begins very soon. I found out on Friday that I'm not being rehired. I was told it has to do with cuts in state aid." Kim's large dark brown eyes, usually so bright, appeared dull.

"Last hired, first fired, I suppose. Pity I'm not a football coach instead of a librarian."

"I'm glad you're not a football coach," he said with an insinuating smile.

"Academics are less important than sports to the university in the scheme of things. Besides, I think I might have embarrassed the university when I uncovered that inferno collection at the library last fall. Maybe offended some people in authority and stepped on a few toes. I'm certain it didn't help matters. They were probably delighted to have an excuse to let me go."

"Actually, the university administration should have been very impressed that you managed to bring a killer to justice."

"Somehow, I don't think it works that way. Kind of like with whistle-blowers. Those in charge tend to view us as traitors of sorts."

Kim bit down on her lower lip, looking miserable. "Possibly, but right now I feel lost."

Gardner held Kim in his arms and gave her a reassuring hug, then kissed the tip of her nose. "Honey, I'd love you to marry me and move into this house. Personally, I don't care whether you work or not."

Kim caressed his cheek. "That's what I love about you. You're so generous and kind. I can always rely on you. But, Mike, that isn't the answer for me. I need to be independent. I need to work. When I marry you, it has to be a marriage of equals. Kind of like a partnership. Do you understand?"

"I guess." He took her hand, leading her out of the kitchen and into the living room. Then he sat down on his comfortable old recliner and pulled her onto his lap. "I remember you telling me that you used to teach high school English before you got your master's degree in English and your MLS degree. Do I have that right?"

Kim gave him a puzzled look. "That's correct. It wasn't for very long, just two years when I was straight out of college."

"Dr. Bell, the school superintendent here in town, owes me a favor. I could find out if he can give you a job at the high school. I think I heard that they were short a couple of positions at the last minute. Happens all the time with people jockeying around for better jobs. I'll find out if he's got something for you."

Kim flushed slightly. "Mike, I don't want you asking for favors from people on my behalf. I'll find something myself."

"Hey, if I can't help the lady I love, what good am I?" Gardner planted a smacking kiss on Kim's lips. He had every intention of getting her a job. And they'd be married soon. He was certain of it. Things were definitely looking up!

_TWO_

Bert St. Croix, on her way to her own job, had come over before Kim left for work. Bert wished her good luck on her first day back as a high school English teacher.

Kim handed Bert a cup of black coffee. "Thanks. You remembered how I like it."

"With just a touch of sugar to sweeten your day," Kim said.

"None for you?"

"I had tea this morning. It has a more calming effect."

"Have a good day."

"Before you go, anything new about the dead boy we found at Raceway Park?"

"A little," Bert said. "Looks like you were right. The M.E. found a puncture wound in his neck. According to the angle, someone must have come up from behind him and stabbed him with a hypodermic syringe injected with propofol."

"Propofol? Was that the stuff that killed Michael Jackson?"

"It can be a toxic substance. His blood level of propofol was really high. He had no history of drug abuse according to his grandmother, and the M.E. found no evidence of drug use at the autopsy. He died from probable homicide just like you said." Bert's expression was grim.

Bert took a sip of coffee. "Well, that's the weird thing. It's the type of drug you might find in a hospital, the kind doctors or nurses might have access to in the course of regular duties in a surgical intensive-care unit. It's used as an anesthetic for operations."

"A peculiar choice for a murder weapon," Kim observed.

"It sure is," Bert agreed.

"And you now know who the young man was?"

"Yeah, name was Sammy Granger. There was I.D. on the body. He was going into his senior year at the high school. You'll probably hear more about him at the school. Since I pulled the case, you might even see me over there. I'll be talking to people. This'll be the first homicide case the captain's let me handle on my own without Mike." Bert raised her chin. "I want to do a kick-ass investigation. Show everyone I know my stuff. I intend to find the boy's killer."

Kim nodded her head. "Then I guess we'd both better get to work. I'll do whatever I can to help you with the case. If I hear anything of interest at the school, I'll let you know."

"Yeah, you do that. Just be careful. Remember when you turn over a rock, you could find a killer snake lurking, ready to strike."

Kim didn't reply, but she felt a chill slither down her back. "Thanks for the coffee. It beats the nail-polish remover they serve at headquarters. See you."

She and Bert left the apartment together. Kim was feeling a bit more confident. It was good to have friends. Most of her life she'd been a loner. That wasn't healthy. Friendships were important. She and Bert came from very different backgrounds, but they both had troubled pasts and it served as a bond of understanding between them.

Kim's hand trembled slightly as she unlocked her car. Firsts were never good for her. Last night, she handled the butterflies screaming in her stomach by dosing on chamomile tea and rereading Crime and Punishment until sleep finally obliterated the torture. Today, she'd woken up with the alarm blasting off at six. She managed to nibble a slice of dry toast and chase it down with a cup of green tea, but even that small amount of breakfast was too much. She groaned inwardly, imagining how embarrassing it would be to throw up all over her new colleagues. Now, that really would be too gross! Somehow that scenario lacked dignity and might leave them just a tad unimpressed with the new English teacher.

The normal twenty-minute drive to the other end of the forty-square-mile township turned out to be more like an hour in the morning traffic, and she grew anxious. She hadn't expected the traffic to be quite this heavy heading southeast. She didn't want to be late and make a bad impression, not on her very first day. She needed this job, needed the money to support herself. It was not just herself but her family that had to be considered. Ma might not want Kim to send money to her in Florida, but Kim knew how much her financial contributions were needed.

The road leading directly to the school was being re-paved. Should she make a right and try to go around it? As she slowed hesitantly, a horn blared behind her.